𝐑𝐀𝐘𝐍𝐄 𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑 is your average do-good lawyer on the rise to fame as a representative of young victims. Except her motivations aren't all that innocent. Rayne's only goal is to run from her past, to leave confrontation for the courtroom, no...
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𝗧he morning came faster than he thought it would have. After waking up, getting ready – and making sure Taryn was on her feet and in the shower, he finally settled down.
He fiddled with his cufflinks as he walked down the short space between his bedroom and Mason's. He was unsure as to whether or not he was awake – or if that asshole he met in the alley that day was still in there with him. That, and if he was joining them at that Courthouse today.
Isaac let out a deep breath before raising his fist and knocking hard on his door.
He bounced back and forth on the heels of his feet as he listened to the shuffling sounds inside the room. Only a minute or so passed when the white door finally swung open.
Staring back at him, blinking quickly, was the blue – haired man; his own questions were answered in his head. Isaac cleared his throat deeply as he glanced at him. His hair was matted down, dripping wet with water. His dark blue eyes looked empty and void of emotion. It seemed like what he'd told him in the alley that day was still what he felt; he gave off literally zero expression. His nose ring was twisted up and only half of the metal was sticking out of his nose. He was hardly dressed; all he wore was a pair of shorts, socks, and boxers. Isaac immediately felt jealousy as his eyes looked at his bare chest.
"What?" he asked flatly, his accent still very strong.
Isaac shook his head, looking away, "Where's Mason?"
"In the loo."
"Do you mind if I wait inside for him?" he questioned, looking back at him.
The man's eyes had changed again; this time, they looked translucent.
"I don't care. It's not my room," he shrugged and turned around, walking over to the dresser.
Isaac nodded his head to himself before slipping through the doorway and closing the door behind him. Mason's room was still a disaster, littered with his belongings that Blake had destroyed in her moment of terror.
"Are you Isaac?" the man asked suddenly, looking over his shoulder.
He had something in his hand that he couldn't quite make out.
"Yes, why?"
He turned fully, showing him that what he held was none other than his wallet. He closed the gap between them quickly and placed two fifties in his hand.
Isaac raised an eyebrow, perplexed, "What's this for?"
"Mason took your weed yesterday; shared it with me," he shrugged, "I'm just paying you back. Don't read into it or whatever."
He snorted, "I wasn't planning on it," he slipped the money in his pocket, "What's your name?"
"Kai," he said shortly, walking away, entering the bathroom.
